


While You Are Here

by tebtosca



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Handcuffs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-07
Updated: 2013-07-07
Packaged: 2017-12-18 01:35:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/874193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tebtosca/pseuds/tebtosca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen comes home to find Jared a little tied up</p>
            </blockquote>





	While You Are Here

“I’m an idiot.”

Jensen is used to that statement coming out of Jared’s mouth, usually over something like the time Jared tripped over Sadie’s dog bed and broke his wrist, or when Jensen had to give him the Heimlich maneuver because he decided to eat a “entire gummi bear family” in one bite. 

It’s _not_ , however, usually associated with a butt naked Jared handcuffed to their headboard.

He’s wearing a pout, his face red with exertion, and his bangs are sticking to the sweat on his forehead. He looks both utterly miserable and utterly _delicious_ , and Jensen can’t stop his first reaction—hysterical laughter and an immediately steel-hard dick.

Jared thrashes around a bit, kicking his long, leanly-muscled legs about the comforter. He tugs at the handcuffs that are holding his wrists together, the metal clacking mockingly at his futility. Jared heaves a gigantic sigh at that, and it’s so overdramatic that Jensen is bent over at the waist now, laughing even harder.

“Why are you laughing at me?”

“Because you’re adorable.”

“Shut up.”

“Make me.”

“I would if I didn’t handcuff myself to the bed and then accidentally swallow the key.”

Jared’s sheepish at the admission, and Jensen’s shocked face must have told him that he wasn’t expecting that one. 

“How in the world did you manage that?” Jensen asks, amusement creeping into his voice.

Jared rolls his eyes, but the apples of his cheeks are flushed bright pink, now from embarrassment. If Jensen wasn’t already head over heels for the big doofus, it would be moments like these that made him fall even harder.

“I didn’t realize how hard it would be get both wrists cuffed by myself and I didn’t want to half-ass it—no pun intended—so I was holding the key in my teeth. But then I sneezed—probably from all the dog hair because you let Icky sleep on my pillow, _hello_ \--and the key fell in my mouth and I panicked and my first instinct was to swallow—shut _up_ \--and then, shit, think about how it’s going to have to come _out_ and… _stop laughing, dammit!_ ”

It takes Jensen a good thirty seconds to stop wheezing, and only then because Jared’s wearing his patented wounded-puppy-dog expression. 

“So you swallowed the key to the cuffs?” 

Jared nods slowly. 

“And now you’re stuck to the bed. Naked.”

Jared nods again, fidgeting.

“And you can’t get away no matter what I decide to do with you?”

Jared finally stills, and he tugs at the cuffs again, this time as a sly little invitation.

“I’m completely at your mercy,” Jared says, and Jensen swears that he actually bats his eyelashes.

Jensen saunters lazily over to the bed, stripping off his silk work tie as he goes. Jared instinctively opens his legs, and Jensen crawls onto the mattress in between them. Jensen takes the silk and runs it along the inside of Jared’s calf, the material catching on the prickly hairs covering his skin. 

“I should teach you a lesson about doing things without me,” Jensen murmurs, leaning down to press a feather-soft kiss on the delicate skin of Jared’s inner knee.

“Just wanted to be, oh,” Jared huffs, as Jensen kisses further up and around the kneecap. “…ready for you.”

“Did you now. Ready for what?” Jensen asks, knowing the answer, but wanting to hear it in that melodious drawl.

Jared moans as Jensen slowly noses around the skin of his balls, kitten licks marking his path. “Wanted to be ready for you to fuck me. Wanted you to know that I’m all yours.”

“That’s right, Jared,” Jensen agrees, running his tongue up the eager vein on the underside of Jared’s angry-hard dick. “You’re all mine.” Jensen sucks the crown into his mouth, suckling hard but languidly, just the way he knows Jared likes it.

Jensen’s hands run up the sides of Jared’s hips, holding tight in a bruising grip as Jared struggles to thrust up into the heat of Jensen’s mouth.

Jensen pulls off with a pop, giving a sly, wet grin. “Nuh-uh. You don’t get to decide, remember?”

Jared whines, tugging at the cuffs uselessly. He bucks his hips, but Jensen’s hold him firm, and Jared finally relaxes into it and tucks his head back within the tightened coil of his arms strung up and behind him.

“You’re bossy,” Jared says, but his dick is almost impossibly hard and hot, and Jensen has to get it back in his mouth just to experience the taste of all that sweet submission.

The only sounds then are the clank of metal and the wet slip-slide of spit and precome, as Jensen tries to get as much of Jared’s dick down his throat as possible. It’s taken years of practice, but Jensen’s gag reflex finally waved a white flag in the face of perseverance and a whole lot of dedicated cock-sucking.

Jensen’s own dick is pressing against the zipper of his pants, but he knows that Jared loves it when Jensen’s fully dressed while he’s completely nude. There’s power in being bare like that, of being exposed and needy, and Jensen knows how much Jared needs that sensation every once and a while.

Jensen, being the hopelessly in love fool that he is, gives that to Jared and more. Would give him everything, every single part of himself, if he could.

“God, Jensen, so close,” Jared pants, and Jensen can feel the pressure building in Jared’s cock. He’s pulling so hard at the metal now, fists clenching and unclenching, and Jensen can only imagine how hot it’s going to be to press kisses to the bruised and reddened skin of Jared’s wrists after they’re done.

Jensen slides one hand down from its place on Jared’s hips, running quickly down Jared’s perineum to the tiny furl of his hole. The muscle is wet from the mess dripping off of Jared’s cock and down Jensen’s chin, and it’s an almost easy slide as Jensen presses his middle finger right in and up, to the knuckle.

He pumps the digit in and out a few times, wetting Jared’s inner walls so he can fit his index finger in snuggly next to it. Jensen keeps up the sucking motion, teasing just the crown now with lips and tongue and just the hint of teeth, while stroking Jared’s prostate. 

Jensen can see Jared’s abs start to tighten, his head thrown back in ecstasy. He knows that Jared is close now, can feel the walls of Jared's ass contracting around his knuckles, so Jensen presses up firmly into Jared's prostate and bobs his head down one last time, holding still to milk out all the come that he can manage.

Jensen’s throat works overtime, swallowing every drop. He knows that his face is probably a mess, wet and tacky with swollen lips and grainy tear tracks. But it’s worth everything when he looks up at Jared, who appears absolutely wrecked, his eyes shining with awe and love.

“Get up here,” Jared says, and Jensen doesn’t speak because he’s aware of how gravelly and used his voice would sound if he tried.

Jensen crawls up Jared’s bare flesh, his work suit damp with sweat and secretions, but that’s what dry cleaning in for. He runs his hands up the tender skin underneath Jared’s biceps, hands folding around metal as Jared closes his fingers to connect them.

Their mouths meet for the first time since Jensen walked in the door, and it’s gentle and intimate and completely them.

They stay that way for a few minutes, the urgency of Jensen’s own erection turning into a far-away ache as it presses into Jared’s thigh. He wants to fuck Jared, to slip right into him and press so far inside that he’ll never be able to come out again. But he wants to have Jared’s hands clawing their way down the rivulets of sweat on Jensen’s back while he does it.

Jensen pulls back, remembering their predicament. 

“There are bolt cutters in the pantry,” Jared whispers, clanging for good measure.

Jensen’s swollen mouth turns up into a smirk, and his fingers tighten where they clasp cool steel.

Maybe a few more minutes like this won't hurt.


End file.
